


rala

by millimallow



Series: the world of owa [11]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Original Work
Genre: F/F, Fantasy, dnd, short fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-22 10:24:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17660897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/millimallow/pseuds/millimallow
Summary: chapter 12 of the world of owa anthology, about the mysterious and deadly moon landing.i was hoping to see you here.





	rala

the day they came to the border, i could only laugh. i saw them there in their triangular capes, faces obscured from the sky, legs trembling in exhaustion and relief. my laugh was of an equal relief- i knew them well, and for a long time i doubted that i could see them here at all. margi, the second of the group to emerge from the dense and cursed forest, collapsed into my arms as i held them out to hold her. what light she emitted, the victorious of a great trek. so i led her back to the tents we had established, an outcropping that formed a circle at the base of the smaller, kinder mountains.

our group was half lowland brisingerian and half takka; i fell on the lowland side, an ebony-haired and brown-eyed human with skin the shade of milk and moonlight. moon landing borders areas shared between our peoples, so amongst our team we had all been raised to not wander into the forest under a sky of stars. the enchanted land would know we were there, and it is dedicated to its preservation regardless of the cost.  even more of us now holding the party from yahannes in our arms, leading them towards the base, feet working out by the starlight where the unseasonal mud remained and where the land was dry enough to tread. there was nothing to be said between us- we had long understood the implications of this outcome, and had discussed it for months. but together we hummed a tune under our ragged breaths.

_come with me, lift up your palms,_

_we’ll dance and do the rala_

_pace fast around the fire-pit,_

_and leave our troubles there_

_in wind and frost and sun and hail,_

_we will do our rala here_

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the group from yahannes, who were known- translated into common- as black wolf rising, had their own tents. we had planned to set them up next to ours, but their entrance was later than expected, and carried with it an increased burden of exhaustion. so the plan devolved into letting them use our tents for the night, then setting up the rest tomorrow. it would make ours cramped, but it was the only idea which could spare all of us from a night in the cold. most of us drew match-sticks to determine who went where, but i volunteered to take margi into my tent before the drawing even begun. it was agreed, and i heard the selection from inside in the warmth. i thought to myself- _where children squabble in the dirt, adults build connections_. it was a silly thought, as i was younger than several members of my team, but it was enough of an excuse for myself. from the pre-mission communications we received, margi was by far my favourite of the group, and though it was embarrassing i had been looking forward to us meeting in person.

that was the whole point, wasn’t it? a group of explorers would come through moon landing from yahannes to heath brisinger. it was a path that proved itself impassable to all but the most formidable and organized of warriors, as dangerous as the passageway was unpredictable. travelling between liberty and the northern wilds was the preferred route, and it made the trek through moon landing redundant in all but the most extreme cases. all aside from exploratory purposes. what remained in moon landing was incredibly difficult to catalogue successfully, yet it was considered worthwhile for the treasures it could bring. with that in mind the team from yahannes- which borders moon landing on the other side of heath brisinger- set out, and we were instructed to meet them here. if the trip through moon landing had not proved fatal, it would bring great shame for the group to meet their end on the remote and mostly-uninhabited (yet safe, for what it was worth) southern slopes of the takka mountains, where takka and brisingerian territory met. with the time of arrival unknown, we waited three weeks, receiving occasional supply drops and otherwise foraging and monitoring the forest expanse. though it was summer, the weather around the border was always uncharacteristically dreary for the season.

i lit an oil lantern so the two of us could see better in the tent, her face visible to me now. i had imagined her beautiful and was not disappointed. her auburn hair was held in thick and rushed ponytails and her eyes of doeish blue were framed by a field of freckles. i took to brushing one loose strand behind her ear, and she smiled weakly.

“thank you.”

“it’s no problem.” i fiddled with my fingers, rubbing the end of my fingernails with my thumb. “you must have seen a lot out there.”

“it snows there in the middle of summer. even on the open fields.”

“do you know why?” i asked inquisitively. margi shrugs in response, a little more life in her muscles now.

“we spent too much time running from it.”

“of course. a-are.. are you hungry?” i didn’t want to demean her with the statement, but i couldn’t help but worry.

“yes, but i have rations.” she rustles around in the leather bag, previously attached to her back, producing a small corn muffin that grew four times when she blew on it. i had heard she was a wizard- learned and trained with the finest- unlike me, a druid. unsure what to say, i held my hands together in the traditional symbol of good eating. “is that something like the tune you were humming earlier?” she asks me.

“this is the symbol of good eating. that tune was the song of the rala.”

“the rala?”

“a dance.”

“mhm.” with the commotion outside dying down, i hand her a small sardine-tin of mushroom paste to spread. margi takes it into her hands gingerly, and lifts a little to her lips to taste as i watch her.

“you seem more curious about us than moon landing.”

“i spent a month there. only this is new now.” looking me in the eyes, she kisses me on the cheek, hand on my shoulder as my hot breath catches in my throat. i blink only once.

“ah.” _am i red as a cherry_?

“please sing me this tune again, sulaitsa.”


End file.
